He departed with a dramatic flourish. As the door closed behind him, Rosamond indulged in a long, delicious sigh, thinking what a marvellous end her Wonderful Day was coming to, and slipped into the big chair he had vacated. On the stand just beside the chair, which was placed close to the end of the settee, the bowl and linen strips were still in view. She rose and gathered them up. The bowl still held some water. She ran to the verandah rail and emptied it. Seeing a towel, another sponge and a roll of batting on the big table, she picked up these various items, and patted them into the bowl preparatory to putting them safely out of sight until the doctor should arrive and perhaps need them.
CHAPTER XX
Suddenly she started, in alarm, and ran to the dining room door. She had heard a loud groan. Even while she reached to turn the handle she heard it again; but not from the direction of the dining room. If sound indicated truly, there was someone outside—someone in distress. Immediately, she heard a heavy tread on the verandah and a large swarthy, black-whiskered man in black clothes limped upon her horizon. She emitted a pathetic little moan of fright, turned pale and dropped everything but the bowl. Her fingers clung to that, mechanically.
The intruder removed his hat, and bowed very low.
“Guten Morgen, meine Dame. Verstehen Sie?”
“Oh—oh!” She breathed out her interjections as a sort of windy, wordless prayer to be spared more excitement even on her Wonderful Day. Until this day nothing had ever happened in Roseborough. Now, too much was happening. The swarthy man bowed again profoundly.
“J’espère que je ne vous dérange pas, madame. Comprenez-vous?”
“Oh—h! What is he saying?” Then, losing the last remnants of her poise she waved him off wildly, chattering: “I don’t wish any, thank you. No, I don’t want anything to-day. Oh—h! go-o away.”
He was unmoved by her explosion. Bowing again, he said: